


Le Masque Sourire

by Rivalry_of_Destiny



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Character Analysis, Feels, Masks, Other, adaptability, backstories, french title because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivalry_of_Destiny/pseuds/Rivalry_of_Destiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron was familiar with the feeling of loneliness the world could leave you numb with, sometimes seeming to even cripple you with. Usually it was nothing but a small presence at the back of his mind, hovering silently, and other times it seemed to overtake all his senses and scream at his entire being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Masque Sourire

            Aaron was familiar with the feeling of loneliness the world could leave you numb with, sometimes seeming to even cripple you with. Usually it was nothing but a small presence at the back of his mind, hovering silently, and other times it seemed to overtake all his senses and scream at his entire being.

            Aaron wore a facáde; an invisible mask that was so simplistic and natural that even he didn’t always notice when he wore it. It had a smile, covering his mouth seamlessly yet suffocatingly and guarded every word he said; it was smooth and thin on his skin and it fit him so perfectly that not even the best philosopher could tell you where the mask ended and Aaron began.

            The only part the mask didn’t cover was his eyes; a maze, a shadowed green forest that held confusion, an emptiness that wasn’t really empty but yet it was, and a subdued spark of life that showed you a soul without love.

            But the mask was proficient; it made Aaron seem kind and normal; he laughed, he cried, he smiled, he said things that weren’t lies but they also weren’t close enough to his heart to be the complete truth.

            The only time he let things slip was when he was with his friends, when he told himself he would be at least half real when he was around them. He wanted to be genuine around them but he didn’t want to be rejected, he wanted to make actual bonds for the the first time in his life because for once he had a stable home, and a life with people who wouldn’t send him away or simply let him go. But it was hard sometimes; to be real he had to be vulnerable, and Aaron was afraid of being vulnerable.

            It was easier before, when he was on his own and jumping from family to family; the rules were simple: Act respectful, act nice, don’t talk back, do what you’re told, and remember that this isn’t permanent, so don’t get attached. But now things were different. He liked being with his friends, Tamara, Call, Jasper, Celia and everyone else, but sometimes… sometimes it just seemed impossible.

 

            When Aaron was younger, he was never quite able to grasp his situation. He stayed in a big house with children, "like him," the caretaker said; but Aaron never understood how he was like any of them, them with their eyes full of purity and life, them with their beaten down, old toys that somehow didn't crumble to dust before their reckless touches, them with a somehow invisible sign around their necks saying, "You will have a good life," as if there was some being out there that had decided these children's fates with a flip of a coin and Aaron had received the opposite side.

            The house was huge, but even though it had many rooms with many beds with too many kids to fit in all of them, it never felt like home. Aaron didn't know what home felt like, but somehow he knew it wasn't like this. He didn't understand what it meant when an adult would come and later leave with one of the kids, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to be one of them or not. The other kids didn't really like Aaron that much; something to do with how he didn't quite fit-in right, how his smile was a little too wide and never seemed entirely genuine, how his eyes were somehow able to glide their way into you, seeing things and leaving you feeling vulnerable and open, how he excelled at being kind to everyone yet always managing to keep a wall around himself so that no one never got too close.

            Aaron would play sports with the other kids, but outside of that, he was an outcast whose existence no one really knew how to react to. It always left him feeling lonely and hurt, and his chest would tighten up uncomfortably so much so that thinking and breathing would become hard. He didn't like that he had no friends, that he didn't fit in, that he was afraid of something but he didn't know what, that he was stuck in a place that felt restricting but was supposed to be his home.

But it was okay; Aaron would grow used to it.

            Aaron knew he had parents, logically, but he was never quite sure who the man and woman were that would visit him from time to time. The man was of average size yet left you with a feeling of trepidation, pure opposite to his deceivingly kind eyes. He was gaunt but somehow took up more room than he should, and when no one was looking a glint would appear in his eyes that would always leave Aaron paralyzed where he stood.

            The woman was beautiful but in a sickening way; her hair and skin were always perfect but she never put away her make-up, it was as if it was glued to her hand, glued to her being, and she looked like an angel with her dimpled smile and heavenly blue eyes, but if you gazed at her a certain way she seemed to distort and become gnarled. They would visit separately, never together, and Aaron would hide whenever they came. They were scary and wrong, and he got a bad feeling whenever he looked at them.

            After a few years, Aaron didn't hide from them anymore. He knew they were his parents, that it was because of them that he was here. They hadn't visited in a long while, but Aaron no longer felt anything when it came to them. He now knew that this was an orphanage, that his best hope of a future was to get adopted. Aaron had expected to be angry when he realized all this, and was surprised when he wasn't. He wasn't angry, but he did feel different; the part of him that had felt confused was now just void, there empty yet not empty.

           The other children still treated him as they did before, but Aaron no longer cared. He had a goal now, a future he knew he could work towards and maybe, maybe it would give him a reason to live the life he had been given.

            Sometimes, late in the night, he would be lying in bed, curled in on himself from the sheer pain of how lonely he felt inside.

But it was okay; Aaron had grown used to it.

 

            The first home didn't work out.

            It was an old couple and their even older dog. The elderly woman had a severe case of senility, always forgetting to cook or to do laundry or to feed the dog, everything seemed to slip her mind. She was kind and had a soft voice, but when she looked at Aaron and forgot who he was and why he was there she would get hysterical and threaten him with her cane. The old man wasn't senile, but he didn't care much for Aaron besides ordering him to mow their lawn with their mower that had outlived its expiration date many years ago. Some days he would beat his wife horribly, but in the end she would forget and the bruises mixed in unnoticed by her old, wrinkled skin.

            The dog was an old Great Dane named Oct, with dark gray fur who couldn't see through the blotches in his eyes. He would howl to the moon every night and if you were near he would lick you to death and sit on you out of love. It was the first sign of love Aaron had experienced and he cherished it, no matter how slightly gross and unhygienic it was.

            He also chose to ignore how pathetic it was.

 

            After four months of almost near starvation, Aaron was being sent back to the orphanage. He was thinner than he had been before, but it was a satisfying price to pay for having met Oct.

            Aaron had almost forgotten what it was like to live back in the orphanage, even though he had lived there since he had been born four months prior. But even so it wasn't hard to get back into routine, playing sports, helping with meals, doing laundry, going to bed on a curfew and et cetera. The only new thing was the look he sometimes got from the kids and the adults equally. It said, _'Why are you here? You got adopted, you left, and now you're back? What did you do?'_

            He knew that no one knew why he had come back unless they had access to his file, but Aaron still hated that everyone immediately assumed that it was his fault.

            It wasn't, he knew that, but at the same time, maybe it was.

 

            The second and third home weren't any better.

            The families were dysfunctional to begin with, even before Aaron got there. Either the father or mother drank too much, and would grab a bat and start swinging, or the oldest sibling would bring home drugs and start handing them out. It was illegal and Aaron wasn't sure what he would do when the police came for them, which he knew they eventually would.

            But the school Aaron went to was one of the best schools in the state, so he decided to put up with it.

            The police came sooner than he had expected. Six months into the school year, and it was a normal quiet walk back home when he saw the police cars and heard the sirens. He froze mid-step, mind racing, adrenaline beginning to pump, and Aaron jerked around, dashing away with his back-bag jumping up and down.

            When it happened again at the third house, Aaron didn't run away. Instead he just asked the police officer nearest to him to give him a lift to the orphanage.

 

            It was at the fifth house where Aaron learned about the Magisterium. He'd been doing a trick where he'd crouch to the ground and twirl the air with his hands, making a dirt tornado. His foster sister caught him doing it one day, and then she told him about it.

            The Magisterium: an underground school where they teach you about magic. At first, Aaron thought she was pulling a prank on him and told her that while he had never read or watched Harry Potter, he still got the reference, and that it wasn't funny. She only sighed and shook her head, auburn bangs swaying softly.

 

            Aaron only fully believed that the Magisterium actually existed when he found himself in the Iron Trial, staring at an auditorium room full of people who had potential magic abilities. He was even more astonished when he realized he was among them. He felt anxious, shaking slightly; he could become a wizard. He could learn magic. Him.

            But a knot also twisted in Aaron’s gut.

            If he didn’t win this, there was no place he could fall back to.

 

            He was the Makar, they said. He was their Savior-- _The_ Savior, they said. He was the trump card to winning the war against The Enemy of Death, they said. He was oppurtunity sitting on a golden platter, his juvenile naivety metaphorical tempting pastries for ambitious onlookers.

            Aaron could only laugh self-deprecatingly at himself. For a moment-- for a moment he had actually thought he was free from being seen as cargo to be utilized. Something unwanted, unnecessary, something that had to be moved around repeatedly lest he become a constant existence.

            Someone touched his shoulder gently and asked if he was ok. The blonde paused.

            Smiling was an exercise for Aaron, almost a form of PE. It’s like when someone jogs every morning of their life; even after you’ve grown used to it, it still takes energy to do. Your heart races and your breathing is constricted, but it’s nothing like the first time you did it.

You’re used to it.

So he smiled in response, because Aaron was used to smiling.

He was used to this.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i can never seem to give Aaron or Call any breaks from le angst


End file.
